Young Writers Society

This couldn't be happening. Why had he tried to stop her? He'd asked her to kill him--she still had the note, she had proof--but he'd done everything he could, given the circumstances, to prevent her from doing so--even to keep her from trying again. Was he playing some sort of game? Putting up a front? Testing her? She picked gravel out of her sore palms, glancing up through a fringe of her hair every once in a while at Dreffan where he sat, rubbing his temples outside the ring of light cast by the fire.

Maybe she really was going crazy... she knew she'd heard Seraph's voice. There was no way Finn could ever forget that voice. She'd heard it in her dreams for so long now. But--oh, voices. They were the things to look out for. The note, though, that was solid: that was tangible. She couldn't make that up. She unbuttoned the top of her vest and reached in for it, but her fingers found only cloth on either side.

Her heart rose into her throat. Where was it? Where had it gone? She kept it right there, tucked into the right side of her vest where it was securely held against her body--it was always there, she could hear the faint crinkle of parchment when she pressed her hand to the vest--

...It wasn't there. Finn's eyes grew wider, and she folded her hands into fists, pressed them against each other, and pressed her forehead against them.

'M not goin' crazy!

"Miss Chant?"

She yelped--she couldn't help it--and shuffled back a little, peering up into the darkness where Dreffan stood now. She swallowed hard, heart pounding.

"I wanted to apologize for my reaction. You startled me."

...He was apologizing? Half of her thought maybe he was the insane one--apologizing for defending his own life against a would-be murderer--while the other half of her wailed internally. As if she hadn't been confused enough before! The man should just make up his mind: did he or did he not want to be dead?

"Go 'way," she moaned, covering her hands in her face.

"Pardon?"

"Go 'way!" she shouted; even the din of the storm couldn't cover up her voice now. She reached for a stone near her, felt one in her palm, and lobbed it at him with all her strength. "Go 'way, don' talk t' me! Go 'way!" she cried, throwing more and more stones at him as he retreated.

Zel looked about the cave with a drunken stare. Everyone had just started to fall asleep when Finn had her little breakdown. Once everything had calmed down everyone started going back to sleep.
He knew that the others thought he was just a drunk idiot, and he didn't mind. Truth was, drinking was just a shield to hide his real self. His master had taught him never to let his guard down, even around the people you trust. Because you never know when they'll stick a knife in your back. If he looked like a harmless drunk, they wouldn't think of turning on him.

Zel shook his head. He was thinking intelligently again, a sure sign that he needed another drink. He took another swig of his wine, only to find it was empty. He looked inside the bottle before throwing it out the front ot the cave.

"Dammit! Who threw tha'!?" Everyone reacted to the voice and armed themselves as a cloaked man appeared at the mouth of the cave. He looked at everyone and said, "What 'er ye young'ns doing in m' cave?"

Zel recognized that voice. He pulled himself to his feet and made his way to the front of the group. Valin put his hand on Zel's chest to stop him. "We don't know how dangerous this man is."

Zel lightly pushed Valin's arm out of the way and continued toward the man. The man spotted Zel. It was difficult to see his expression under the hood. "Zel, is tha' you?"

Zel's face lit up. He practically jumped on the man and hugged him. "It's been so long! How have y' been, old man?"

"Y'd better le' go of me before I snap yer neck, kid." Zel released the stranger and they both began to laugh. The man removed the hood of his cloak. He was old with gray hair and wrinkles all over his face. "It's been three years."

"What's going on?" Valin asked.

Zel had forgotten all about the others. He turned to face his group and said, "Everyone, this is Master Quinn, my teacher. He's the guy we've been look'n for."

Adrian carefully took off his gauntlet when no one was looking. His fingers were horribly bloody. The thing was it was his sword hand. His gaze fell towards Becky how peaceful she looked. His feeling about her were so confusing. He knew not what he desired, his Dad floated into his mind, the fool tried to make him some unfeeling hero. Forget the Church, it's not like it had given him anything in return. He wanted to heal himself, but instead ignored pain and lifted his sword, gritted his teeth and swung, cleaving through the air. He looked around-no one was awake; wait two people were, looked like the stranger called Dreffan and the women called Finn, he fought back an attack and she then screamed him to "go 'way" It echoed off the cave. He shrugged and continued swinging the pain so horrible. He bit his tongue and swung tightening his grip on his blade. Blood oozing on the handle making the challenge greater. He turned to see it was calm again.

With animal ferocity sliced the air. His blade whistles as he delivers the onslaught to this imaginary foe. He felt an achievement, the church had only used him as a pawn.. Here he controlled his destiny. With a silent cry of rage he tackled the air viciously, clutching his sword like it was his only life line. If that fell he fell. He turned round once again to see someone stirring. It looked like the drunk, probably just woke up to drink more- but no he got his drink and walked over to. Valin. He wanted to hear what was being said, but training was more important. He once again bit his tongue this time drawing blood. He couldn't help and let out a horrible grunt. Immediately he swung round in all directions to see if anyone had heard. His eyes fell on Becky, something was telling him to go to her, but he needed to train. His feelings for her were so unsure and he hadn't learnt anything, then again she was more interested in the drunk, this was part of the reason he was training like this to show he wasn't someone to throw about.

Walking over slowly he looked at her sleeping, when he heard voices he backed off and pretended to still train. Why couldn't he do anything? Everyone woke up and he slipped his gauntlet back on and slid his sword back in.

Valin

The night had been interesting. The storm had passed, leaving an odd sort of calm, with clear skies. I'd been awakened no fewer than three times, most notably of which had been Finn screaming at the newcomer. Sometime during the night he had gotten free of his bonds. When she screamed at him, he had had his hands up in quiet surrender. I was not afraid for the woman--something about this man reminded me of Seraph.

...At least, the Seraph Belfast the I knew.

Finn, however, worried me. More and more often she was succumbing to fits of instability and paranoia, searching for someone that was not there. She worried me.

I heard the old man coming long before he set foot in the cave. It was only one man: I felt no reason to warn the others. His footsteps were strange, though--deliberate. The footsteps of a man with nothing to fear, nor anything to hide.

I narrowed my eyes and watched the mouth of the cave, my interest piqued.

When he stumbled into our camp, his stumble exaggerated, I noted, it was not what I expected. The old man looked frail, vulnerable--nothing like the power of his footstep suggested. The young drunk, as usual, was not paying attention. He threw an empty jug over his shoulder, hitting the old man square in the temple.

"Dammit, who threw tha'?" his voice did not quaver, as the elderlies tended to do. "What 'er ye young'ns doing in m' cave?"

Beside me, Zel climbed to his feet. I put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"We don't how how dangerous this man is. Something is not right with this one," I said, eyeing the old man. Zel shook his head and pushed my arm out of the way. Insolent fool.

The two exchanged words, and suddenly the young drunk hugged the older one. Foolish human sentiment.

"What is this foolishness?" I asked coldly. Zel grinned at me, and I stared back coolly.

"Everyone, this is Master Quinn, my teacher. He's the guy we've been look'n for."

I stood up and strode to the man, offering my hand forward. He accepted it and shook it firmly.

"I am Valin Norovir, Prince of Tor Arcana," I said.

"Grand Master Quinn, at your service."

"I'm told you have some information that could be useful to us--"

"Not here. There are dark magics about."

I opened my mouth to say more, but decided to humor the old man. I felt no such magic, but if he had information regarding Seraph, it would be well worth it to be on his good side.

"Then we shall move." I turned to the group. "Pack it up. We move within the hour."

Lireal

She walked, though it was more like a trot, this was getting far too dangerous she swore never too get complacent but every time she refused to kill. She lost another chance at pay. It was going to have to be roughing it at "The Wounded Dwarf." The keeper Cartok Trey had been the closest thing she had to a father but even he couldn't protect her from unhappy customers. Since her real parents had gone missing she'd made a living killing people for money. Her first instinct had been to try and enter her clan home. They refused entry and called her "a dometicated pet." She'd then gone through a time of great anger and aggression a group of four assasins seeing her near throttle a guy for trying to say she'd stolen money. They'd been impressed and comissioned her to kill a stuck up man called Lord Kyron. She done so they gave her money and offered her training. It didn't matter now really they kicked her out before when they realize she had select killing. It didn't matter she made money, she'd not failed in killing ever. She'd just spared someone because she'd felt for them. Besides the guy who she been comissioned to kill had been a lowly blacksmith with a family. The man had seemed caring and kind. It was just a king was worried about all boys being born because of something his twisted cousellour had told him. She spared him telling him to run. The man had been suprised and asked, "Why don't you join us?" She had shook her head her mane of white hair shining with perspiration, "I never run." He had been so shocked and given her a crossbow explaining that he'd had it left in his shop ages ago by a weary group of travellars and that it was made out willow. The whole thing pure white and exquisitly carved.

She swung round her thought subsiding, the person hadn't given up. It was a lousy guard who had strayed too far from castle. Slipping her crossbow out she knelt down loaded the catch. Aiming for his neck (for a quick kill) she fired. He cried out gurgling clutching at his throat before dying.

She ran over picked up his purse and anything else had, not like he'd need it. The man had been young handsome even, but she felt nothing he'd come after her. It was either him or her.

Finally she came to the Inn. A druken dwarf holding a tankard in one hand. A huge gash in side though he still smiled. This sign swung lazily from above her. She pushed open the door the atmosphere immeadiatly changing when they saw her. Putting her pack down she went behind the counter and picked up a apron. She turned and saw a large man and smiled. He saw her and smiled a nice warming smile. At least he was glad to see her.

"Lireal, you couldn't of come at a better time, I'm pratically stowed out. I've not been able to catch a rest all night, you wouldn't mind taking over."

She smiled then looked around before asking, "Anything..."

Cartok shook his head chain-mail vest rattling under his shirt. She smiled knowing full well Cartok wasn't stupid he'd a huge Axe under the bar. He'd barbarian blood within so could stand the harsh winters and any other challenge life gave him.

He tapped her on the shoulder as she drew up trays and pointed to a man sitting alone, he seemed to be waiting for someone and Cartok told her he'd been here since the rush started. He'd walked in demanded a drink and paid with some foreign currency.

She shrugged, if he caused trouble Bartok would cleave him in two or she'd gut him. She began to move around serving the rowdy lot. She was giving a regular some stew when she Cartok pointed towards the stranger. She walked over clutching her concealed dagger. Something about this man wasn't right. He seemed to be like globe of negative energy. She walked over and asked lazily, "What you be having stranger?"

"just a moment of your time"

She looked around warily, "Well if you're no ordering, then it can wait."

He answered politely but with an air of authority, "I'm ordering something, just not beer"

She leant against desk next to her, "Well you're in the Wounded Dwarf not some classy establishment. So pickings are slim."

He grinned and and leant down on the table his voice conspiringly low, "I'm not here for companionship." He dropped a pouch of coins down on the table before continuing, "I'm here for a contract."

She shrugged and cursed her misgiving taking a seat at the table, "I'm not sure I want to."

He smiled, she carefully noted that she didn't like this person but here was a job, "It is in regards to the killer of your parents."

She let out a gasp, and all hope she had about them returning ever vanished. She'd realized long ago they'd never, but the part of her still young had wished..., "How do you know my parents are dead?"

He switched his features to a warm but sad smile, ""I was there, when they were killed." He grabbed her hand an action that surprised her, "I knew them well."

She pulled away still unsure, "Okay if you truly knew my Father who did they quest with?"

He grinned predatory and replied, "Myself, of course. Lord Seraph Belfast Wyrmsbane, at your service. Among the survivors of the Battle of the Weave were Alexanta, the Paladin, and the traitor, Valin Norovir, he who stabbed your parents in the back."

She immediately stood up to bow, "My lord I didn't realize... I'm so sorry."

"If I demanded respect I would not be dressed as such"

He continued, ""The elf never liked your kind. Even when they proved themselves time and time again, he mistrusted them."

She pulled up the money pouch, "My father traveled with you sir, I'll gratefully help in killing the man who slay my parents through righteous discrimination."

He stood up and smiled knowingly, "Come with me, then. We have much to talk about."

*******

That had been two months previous. After planning and plotting, Seraph called her to his side. 'It is time,' he said."

She had spoken to Cartok and he'd wished her luck, sad to see her go, but glad she was going to avenge her parents. She'd bought new equipment months supply of food. Spare set of clothes and hat. To cover her ears. She was finally going to see the man who killed her parents and she'd gut him she'd not hold back for this despicable man.

Alden looked over the stranger carefully. He was old, but he moved gracefully, not with the hobble of a cripple. Alden listened to the conversation and packed up immediately afterward.

His belonging weren't very much. He had been wearing his flight webbing for a long time, so he wouldn't need to reattach it. He had lost Ria's letters when he went into the river. He was lucky to have his steel talons.

It was all Seraph... He had tried to kill Alden, but he had failed. The injuries were enough to set him back for the months it took to heal and redevelop his muscles. Alden turned away from his anger, he would deal with Seraph when the time came.

It didn't take long for the others to assemble their things and they were off shortly.

Dreffan

Something was wrong. Dreffan could feel his Lord’s presence, like some divine eye watching from the heavens: Lord Belfast had been scrying him since the night before. Never had he seen his master so on edge, so anxious. Lord Belfast had not said a word to him since he had defended himself against Miss Chant, nearly nine hours previous.

“Who freed your hands?” Norovir asked suddenly. Dreffan flinched, having not heard him approach. Valin was looking at his party, watching them prepare their last few things.

“Ah, well...Miss Chant was kind enough to do so, that I might care for my wound,” Dreffan said, indicating the cutting running across his cheek. He neglected to mention that Miss Chant had also given him that wound. “I fear, however, that she has taken a small dislike to me.”

The elf nodded and narrowed his eyes, still not looking at him. “You could have attacked any of us during the night. Why did you not?”

Dreffan smiled. “You mean aside from the fact thatr I would not survive a night alone in this environment, I assume–In reality, you have given me no reason to, Lord. Aside from your pet’s initial reaction to my presence–“ he looked to the gryphon, preening himself near the mouth of the cave. “–You have been nothing but gracious to me.”

“I am not in the business of torturing captives who can be of use to me, especially those who have shown no malice to myself or my companions,” Valin said, looking at Master Quinn with narrowed eyes. Dreffan followed his gaze.

“He certainly does not look the part,” he remarked.

“I was thinking the same.”

I know, Dreffan thought with an inward smile. For a moment, neither of them said anything.

“If you wish, you may ride with one of us. We will be traveling too quickly for you to walk, regardless of how determined you are to prove yourself.

Dreffan turned to his captor and nodded. “My thanks, but, would you allow it, I have my own mount.”

Finally Valin looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “As you wish.”

“You are very gracious, Lord,” Dreffan said with a small bow.

“Get moving,” Seraph’s voice hissed in his ear, and Dreffan flinched. Something was definitely wrong.

He slipped a hand into his belt pouch and withdrew the ruby encrusted, obsidian statuette of his Nightmare. Before he even got a chance to show Valin the work of art, let alone summon the beast, he felt the connection with his Lord shatter. It was not merely severed, as was the usual, with the field of magic slowly dissipating into nothingness: the very air in the clearing began to shimmer and waver, as though caused by some intense, unfelt heat.

“Be wary, friends! Something is amiss...” Master Quinn hissed, looking about cautiously.

This is wrong, Dreffan thought frantically.

Valin’s blades were suddenly in his hands. He narrowed his eyes at Dreffan.

“Is this your doing?” he demanded.

Dreffan shook his head. “No, not me. This is Lord Belfast. It appears your time has come, Lord. Die well.”

Valin glared at the man and leveled his blade at his throat. “I will not kill an unarmed man. However, do not try me.”

Dreffan nodded. He did not know what was going on, but he didn’t like it.

“It is good...to see you again, my friend.” Seraph Belfast’s voice echoed around them, seemingly from all directions.

“Circle up–get Kira in the middle. We don’t want to be flanked. Be ready for anything,” Valin’s orders were short and curt, and everyone hesitated.

“Now,” he hissed, and everyone obeyed. Within seconds, the group had formed a tight circle in the center of the clearing. Dreffan was in the center of it, prodded into place by Valin’s blade.

All around them the air hissed and popped and crackled with energy. Slowly, two forms emerged from the field of magic. The first was instantly recognizable. Seraph Belfast stepped into view, but he was not the man these people had traveled with. Dreffan could not meet his Lord’s gaze.

“By the gods...it’s him,” Stillman whispered.

Valin said nothing, merely stared at Seraph and clenched his jaw tightly.

The man was dressed in his armor, that distinctive, crimson hued plate mail that clanged with every step and had protected him from countless blows. But the crimson was nearly black, now, a mere shadow of its former glory. Blood had stained every inch of the armor, coagulating atop the adamantine plates and staining it forever. Seraph himself was a sight to behold. His eyes were soulless black orbs, the sockets willed with that shiny, sinister substance that covered his body in the form of Banic Runes, which now dominated his face. His mouth, normally expressionless, even cold, now held a malicious sneer on his lips.

Everything about him was alien. His goatee, so meticulously trimmed before, had grown to a full beard, which hung in tatters, for no hair grew where the Runes had invaded his flesh. His hair, always pulled back into a neat braid, was now disheveled and tangled, hanging in a mane around his face.

“No...no...nonononono...” Beside Dreffan, miss Chant had taken to chanting that one word as though it would protect her from the coming storm.

Then he grinned, the one thing about him that was familiar. It was the only smile they ever saw from him, that mirthless, predatory smile that showed all his teeth made his eyes sparkle with excitement.

A screech of outrage cut the relative silence, and the gryphon was suddenly airborne.

Seraph’s grin only widened, and he raised his hand in front of him, fingers pointed toward the sky. His gauntlet began to glow, and from the shimmering field of magic leapt a score or more of creatures, demons that Dreffan had only hear of in fairy tales.

“This is wrong,” he whispered. Seraph did not command an army of demons...he did not ambush those he sought to speak with...this was all wrong.

With a chorus of unearthly hisses, roars, and bellows, the demons of Bane charged forth.

Dreffan was afraid for the first time in many years.

Strange how quickly events can turn. Finn sat, crouched against the wall, in the spot she'd held for several hours now; around their current haven the others engaged in various activities: conversations, preparations for the journeys, dozing...

And then it broke. Finn squeezed her eyes shut tight at the sudden feeling of released tension--like a bowstring had snapped. Her fingers flew to her face and she pressed them hard against her forehead, feeling as if an unknown head congestion had dissipated completely in a matter of seconds; she smoothed the frizzing strands back from her forehead and stared at her boots, blinking and wincing at the change in pressure. Was it a stormfront coming in?

No... storms would not cause heat mirages, yet the air wavered in front of her face.... Finn shivered and pulled the collar of her vest away from her throat, staring around wildly. "Stillman," she called anxiously, spotting the girl closeby. Becky turned to look at her, first annoyed and then concerned, distracted briefly as the strange old man spoke aloud.

“Be wary, friends!"

"Finn? Ye all right?" Stillman inquired, hesitantly turned towards her.

"Somethin's wrong!" Finn gasped, one hand grasping at her throat.

“Is this your doing?” Valin demanded, hands on his blades.

Dreffan looked as shocked as the rest of them for once. “No, not me. This is Lord Belfast. It appears your time has come, Lord. Die well.”

Valin glared at the man and leveled his blade at his throat. “I will not kill an unarmed man. However, do not try me.”

"Valin!" Finn shrieked before the last word was out of the prince's mouth. The pressure that had dissipated--the pressure she hadn't even noticed before--was back in full force. Her head felt like it was in a vice. She pressed her hands to her temples and huddled into a ball, barely noticing how Becky recoiled, looking at Finn like she had some sort of deadly communicable disease.

The pressure built and built, and Finn was vaguely aware of commotion and scuffling, of a hand on her arm, dragging her into a group--she didn't wince as her shoulder collided with Valin's armor while he gave orders, and someone, she wasn't sure who, trod on her foot--and then, the pressure building to such a degree that she thought her head would explode... it ended. It didn't leave; the air didn't feel as light as it had the first time after the pressure left. But her head... she could see, and think again.

"By the gods... it's him," Becky whispered nearby.

Seraph.

"No, no... no no no no no!" Finn whimpered, hands over her ears again. Surely this was just another of her bouts of--she'd admit it--madness. There was no way that thing was Seraph, her Seraph[/i]--no, not her Seraph, that bastard... she wanted nothing to do with him--but that smile! Wicked, but so familiar underneath it...

Then the demons came, and Finn, shaking and pale, drew her daggers and succumbed to the hallucination.

"Stay in the circle, do not let them get Kira. We'll take them together," Ria said to Becky. She said this more for herself than Becky.

Then, without warning, Alden let out a screech and lunged forward above the others towards Seraph. All hell exploded at once as demons came out of thin air. Kira began screaming something.

"Make it stop!"

Time slowed down and for a moment Ria saw everything. Alden was a midleap, he moved his claws and talons, extending them. Ria recognized them, they were the battle claws that Alden had used in many battles. She had only ever heard of them. Now, the claws and talons moved together. The claws cut the legs off the demon, while the talons ripped through the demon's torso. As if that wasn't enough, Alden then head butted the demon, sending the torso off the legs and to the ground. The demon tried crawling away, but Alden ended that with a swift movement of his claws.

The entire thing took less than three seconds and the remaining demons were stunned. Then an arrow whized by Alden's head, striking one of the demons dead. Alden didn't even flinch. Ria suddenly realized what was going on. Alden was having tunnel vision. The demons stopped for a moment, before moving forward as a single wall of demons.

Demons swarmed over Alden and the rest of the group moved forward to attack the demons. Several demons went flying as Alden threw them off in a show of strength. Seraph stood in front of him. Alden leaped at Seraph without thinking twice.

Lireal

The trip was seconds and she gazed around at new surrounding. Her eyes locked on Valin. Drawing her sword she advanced towards him her features filled with such hate.

Lireal would finally kill the man whom caused her much pain. He turned towards her and steeled himself.

Her blade connected with his then the fighting commenced. Valin Nouvir would die and her parents would be avenged. He struck her armour with precise strikes. She fought on filled with unending rage trying to knock his sword out his hand. She'd gut the murder.

He just kept deflecting blows. Lireal couldn't be beaten by this scum she spoke, "You killed my parents!"

(Sorry it's short but don't know Dan character enough to continue.)

Thank you for the welcome Griffin and here is my character for those who have not seen it - topic15456-15.html

She stirred and groaned, an olive hand reaching up to bush across a forehead framed by silky, black tendrils. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared up at a white, patterned ceiling. Blinking several times, she groaned again as her eyes adjusted to the bright light and she tried to block out the throbbing footsteps and voices from adjacent rooms.

"You are awake then." The solid, steady voice came from a corner of the room where an ageing woman sat with her needlework. The words caused the girl on the bed to cringe.

"You'll be wanting breakfast I suppose." She cringed again and closed her eyes, taking deep, comforting breaths for a few seconds.

"No," the girl whispered in a soft, feathery voice that cracked slightly due to her dry, parched lips.

"A drink... please." The woman put her needlework aside and approached the bed beside which a small table held a jug of water and a cup. The woman filled the cup and held it to the girl's mouth so she could take a sip.

"A nasty fall it must have been. I'm surprised you didn't lose the babe." The woman took the water away and the girl tried to concentrate, tried to think.

"The babe?" she asked.

"Yes, don't worry, the man who found you had us call a doctor in. He paid for it; and this room too. Very generous indeed."

"Babe?" the girl said again.

"You do not recall that you are pregnant? Well no matter, more sleep will fix that."

Demons. Demons. What a hellish hallucination--and she couldn't break it! One of the demons' swiped at her upper arm with its claws as she spun to plant a dagger in its chest, shaking it off heavily, and she bit her lip hard against the stinging pain. The cuts burned unlike any she'd ever felt before. She wiped the demon's blood, a brackish thick liquid, off on her trousers and turned, a dagger in each hand.

Alden was beset by demons. Kira was shrieking with fear while Ria and Becky fought like demons themselves; Valin was fending off the furious and half-skilled strokes of someone Finn had never seen before.

Claws scraped across her back, burning pain again; she screamed, and whirled, slashing her blades blindly against the thing. It shrieked as her metal made contact with flesh--or whatever it was these things had that passed for such--attracting the attention of its fellows. Finn stumbled backwards as two more demons shot towards her, blades bared and ready--but the blows never came. They seemed to change their mind and only glanced sneeringly at their wounded companion before rushing back to share the attack on Alden with their mates.

Finn, breathing hard and feeling dizzy, kicked the wounded demon hard in the head; her foot sunk in through its mutilated skull and she retracted it with a shudder, stumbling backward.

No more, she pleaded silently. Please ye gods, no more! She shook herself convulsively. She had to escape the grips of this delirium--she had to!

"Finn."

She stopped cold, all the blood flowing out of her head. The scene swam, and she turned to see black eyes, and then everything went gray.

Seraph

Had this been a different time, a different place, the looks upon their faces might have been laughable. The instant that gryphon–it had survived, apparently–collided with my demons, though, the time for games was over. The foolish, gullible dark elf strode forward in the wake of the dogs of Bane, her blade drawn and her gait determined. Valin stared at me as she came toward him, and I met his gaze evenly. He held my eyes until the last possible second, tearing away only to meet the wild, raging swing of the larger female drow.

I looked to my right, where She fought bravely, driving one of Her daggers into the chest of one of the demons. I knew Dreffan would defend Her to the bitter end, and was more than capable of doing so. Even as I watched, he threw himself into a vaguely humanoid demon, with no eyes and a gaping maw of teeth that was approaching Her flank. Although unarmed, he was more than a match for the beast. He threw a swift kick that took out its knee, then hurled it over his shoulder, using its arm as a lever to throw its considerable bulk to the ground before smashing the heel of his boot against its elbow joint.

My confidence in Dreffan secure, I turned to my true target. Master Quinn had just snapped the neck of an apelike demon. I stepped forward, slipping my blade from its scabbard, my eyes never leaving the elderly master. He saw me coming and dropped back into a defensive stance.

“Lord Belfast, I will not allow you to harm these people,” he said as I approached. I almost laughed aloud at the irony. He would defend these people to the death, when it was his death I wished in the first place. The drunken slur and wavering posture that usually characterized the grand master were gone, replaced by grim determination, the knowledge of his impending death dawning on him as I took another step. I did not honor him with a reply, merely grinned and raised my blade. I knew he would not deliver the first blow, so I eagerly obliged. He expertly knocked my sword aside with the heel of his hand as it darted for his heart, but it was a ruse. He realized far too late. I took hold of his wrist and instantly his eyes widened in horror and pain. I let my sword fall to the ground and clamped my other hand around his throat.

His life force was faint, almost frail, for his body was old and venerable. It would do nicely. A moment passed, and when I was through tapping into his life force, his corpse was little more than a skeleton, the skin pulled taught over his gnarled bones, his beard hanging in wisps around his mouth, wide open in a silent scream. I dropped the corpse the ground. It was of no more use to me.

An anguished howl of denial brought a smile to my lips, and out of the corner of my eyes I saw Quinn’s student desperately trying to push past the demons that blocked his path to me, to his master that he could not save. Human sentimentality...how pitiful. The fool made it to me, dispatching the demons with ease, but I was no demon. I caught his first blow, then his second, but didn't bother to drain him. I had my life force, and my target was dead. I threw him into a tree as though he weighed nothing.

Out of nowhere, I felt an impact at my hip. The blade pierced my flesh and followed through, jutting from my chest just below my collarbone when the crosspiece slammed into my back, sending me forward a step. I spun with inhuman speed and wrapped my fingers around the fool’s face, draining him even as his hands released the hilt of the sword. From beneath my fingertips I felt Temperest’s eyes grow wide, and his mouth opened in a scream that caught fast in his throat. He was young. Strong. He would take some time to destroy. The irony did not escape me, as Adrian’s hands came up to grasp futilely at my fingers, that he had grown a backbone just in time for his life to be snuffed out. I lifted him from the ground effortlessly, his armor growing loose on him, his clothes beginning to billow about as his mass diminished with his life. I grinned all the wider, feeling his life flow through me, repairing the damage his blade did even as I slid it from my side and let it fall to the ground beside my own.

“Die now, Adrian Temperest, and know that with your death will come my freedom,” I whispered to him.

Then the gryphon hit me from behind.

In a roar of defiance the bull like demon charged Sirloaz, its primal roar signaling its blind lust for blood. Easily side stepping out of the demon's path Sirloaz placed dual cuts in the creature's side. As it stumbled and turned, holding one of its muscular arms to its side, Sirloaz jumped landing his feet in the minotaur's shoulders, slamming it to the ground.

"Rip the beast. Tear away his courage, steal him of his precious life"

Making a deep quick cut Sirloaz sliced away the muscles on the minotaur's jaw, then Sirloaz rammed the daggers through its shoulders severing the control of the beast's arms. Sirloaz proceeded to grab ahold of the demon's jaw and ripped it from the minotaur's face, spewing blood upon the scene.

The demon's eyes cleared in realization that, it was going to die; fear gripped the beast. In a final protest an unearthly gurgling screech was propelled from its gaping hole of a mouth as Sirloaz drove the retrieved daggers through the beast's eyes, and deep into its brain.

Looking away from the demon in its final death spasms Sirloaz noticed an exceptionally large demon making its way to Adrian's withered and weakened body. It's impressive twelve foot hight towering over the battle scene, its long drawn out face filled with teeth. Adrian in a final attempt to defend himself began to crawl towards his fallen sword.

Sirloaz wasn't the only bystander to this event; Becky after dealing with a demon of her own saw this and began to scream out, her cries joining those of Zel's for his fallen master. She was too far away to do anything to help her frail Adrian, there was nothing she could do.

Sirloaz burst into motion, his eye's clouded over, running towards the demon as fast as humanly possible drawing his final dagger, he leapt into the air; and in a spin, drove the dagger through the demon's outstretched hand shortly followed by a spinning kick on the thing's jaw.

The demon merely chuckled as it plucked the small blade from its hand and flexed its muscled body in a show of strength and power. "You cannot hope to defeat me, puny, worthless human" the demon rumbled.

"Hello brother" Zaolris spoke; now having full conroll of Sirloaz, as he picked up Adrian's long sword. The demon looked somewhat surprised then smiled as Zaolris charged once more.

"Hello little brother".

Becky didn't have time to think; just react. All around her was a collage of warriors and demons. Swords crashed through inhuman flesh, feathers flew and Becky found herself fending off talons, with Ria at her back.

Sirloaz was like a wasp: the sharp spikes on his armor tore though the creatures as he fought. It was almost like he was a demon himself. His cloudy eyes showed no mercy.

There was a shape, too, Becky saw between blows. Someone-- or something that hadn't been there before. Unfamiliar, but she knew it at the same time, and then she saw his face.

It was Seraph, only changed. He seemed larger, and the markings on his face appeared to have spread. He reached for the teacher. Becky didn't see what happened as she stabbed an attacking demon but when she looked next, the old man was on the ground and Zel was howling as he swatted away the devils with his fists.

Becky had to look away as she was charged by yet another monster, this one larger than the last, all tail and claws. Ria got to it first and Becky looked back. Someone else had got to Seraph. Was it Adrian? His sword cut into Seraph's back, piercing him through. Becky blinked and Seraph was facing the other way, holding Adrian's throat. Adrian seemed to wither then, growing smaller and smaller as if he were becoming a skeleton. Seraph held him for a second and put his lips closer to Adrian's ear like some horrible goodnight kiss-- then he dropped him and Adrian fell, broken, to the ground where he was trampled by a charging beast.

Becky didn't fight it. Instinct took over and she dove forward, leaving Ria alone. Sirloaz flew forward aswell but it was the gryphon who got there first as a demon blocked Becky's way. Adrian couldn't be dead. No, she had to get to him, had to get through these monsters.

She needed to kill them, and Seraph, and Alden for stealing her task-- all of them. Becky couldn't see: all she could do was stab away at whatever was near until she no longer knew what she was fighting.